Intertwined Destinies
by 1don't3know2
Summary: Is it fate that three girls met at five in an airport, moved to the same town, same school and a love that not many could reach, or is it a coincidence? It's their life. Not everyone is as they seem, smart!brittany, tomboy!santana, possessive!rachel. Femslash. s/b/r with a little Sue action. Canon.


**Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me, else I'd be rich and there'd be a Berritana threesome up in there, but there isn't and I'm so obviously poor. So… All rights belong to Ryan Murphy and the FOX Network.**

**5 yrs old. –Port Columbus Airport**

"For a Sunday, Port Columbus sure is packed," Daddy commented looking around at the other passengers waiting at the "baggage-thingy" we were standing near. As Dad replied, I noticed the most pretty dress on a little Spanish, or Hispanic as Shelby calls them, girl standing near what seemed to be her parents. The dress was folding at the edges like p-pleets as Shelby says, and she had a cute black belt looping through the red dress, on her feet were a pair of red laced up slippers. She also had on a black sweater open to the front and her lovely dark brown hair was almost magically flowing down around her shoulders.

I cocked my head, staring at her. Almost pleading with her, to look at me, but it was in my head of course, otherwise I would sound like a loony. As soon as I wished it, she looked up at me. I smiled at her and grinned a bit more when she blushed and ducked her head shyly floor. I resumed my staring, only to be distracted by a little blonde girl in a dance leotard, ballet slippers and a jeans skirt. I was not really surprised at her choice of outfit; she seemed like a dancer with all the hopping, twirling and twists she was performing. I, myself, was wearing what Daddy referred to as "button ups", a sky blue one, a dark blue pleated skirt, a black beanie, a black vest and black dress shoes. Shelby always said to dress your best and I loved my outfit so I was happy.

I missed Shelby. We all used to live together in an apartment or suite as Aunty Sly calls it, in New York. Shelby is an actor, and for months we'd been preparing for this. For 28 months she will be filming in Cannes, France. She had to learn French, as she would be living there for over two years. She had decided that it would be wise for me to learn the language as well, as I'll be visiting her some summers and so _elle m'apprenait._ I wasn't as great as she was but I knew many words. Dad had decided that since Shelby was moving that we'd move as well, but instead of to France, he took a map and threw a pointy thing at it and that's where we'd move to. That is the reason why we were at the airport today, May 27, 2001, collecting our stuff, and waiting for Aunty Sly to pick us up and take us to Lima Beans, Ohio. _J'etais triste,_ I missed our doorman, George, his skin looked like the little Latina's.

I decided then and there, I'd speak to her to see if she sounded like George did. I tugged on Daddy's pant leg.

"Daddy, may I go talk to her, _s'il vous plait? _I promise I'll be right back." I pleaded pouting. He glanced down at me smiling. He looked over at the girl and _ta famille_. Dad also looked over at them.

He then said to Daddy, "It couldn't hurt … I mean it looks like our plane's baggage hasn't reached as yet."

Daddy glanced towards the family then back to the baggage claim and groaned.

"Ok Lee, let's go. Come, ma petite chere." Dad kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his hand. Daddy however took my hand in his, preventing me from running off like I wanted to. I rushed in front, pulling both men along with me, not even slowing until we reached the Hispanic family. As Daddy introduced us, I smiled at the little girl. When I heard my name I smiled politely at the adults, greeting them but went right back to staring; after their family were introduced, I tested out the little one's name.

"Santana," I tried. "Santana. Hello Santana. My name's Rachel. I like your dress. And your hair. You look really really pretty." I rambled. I would have continued too, if I hadn't heard the sweetest accented compliment from the little Latina.

"I, uh _como_ hat _y el chaleco_,"she whispered shyly ducking her head. I didn't know what language she was speaking but she was just so cute. So more than a little confused I looked to her parents and asked, "What does uh, como elle chalco mean?"

It was funny, the way they too were confused before they understood what I was referring to. "Oh," they laughed, "you mean _como el chaleco._ It means I like your vest. She must have said that she like the vest you have on."

Grinning I replied to Santana, "_Merci, petite Latina._" We smiled at each other for a while, before we were distracted by the tiny dancer. Our eyes trailed her movements to a nearby bench. Glancing at each other, it was like we had the same thoughts.

So I turned to my fathers and stated," I'm gonna play with Santana at that bench. We wanna sit down." At his nod, I giggled in thanks, kissed his cheek and took her hand, marveling at how soft it was. We walked to the bench hand in hand, only releasing when we had to climb up onto the bench. The little dancer grinned in greeting.

"My name is Brittany Pierce, _mijn gezin_ told me to sit here and wait for them. They went for our _tassen_. _Ik ben te klein om te helpen_. But so is _mijn broer _and he's with them, but he's also too small for dance so I guess we're even. We're going back to our home; we were visiting the rest of our family in Netherlands. I saw you guys with your family. _Waar zijn jullie mee uit?_ Where are you guys coming from?"

After explaining why my family was here, both Brittany and I turned to Santana.

"_Qu'en pensez-vous?_ Why are you here?" I asked.

"Was that French?" Brittany asked, "I always wanted to hear someone who could speak French, what language can you speak, Santana? Spanish? You look a little Hispanic. Are you from any Caribbean countries?"

"No, but you… know much, _aun eres pequeno_. Why?" the girl in question asked.

"I'm not sure, I just read a lot of books in my daddy's lap, that _en ik kijk veel tv_." Brittany replied.

"I move from Argentina, _mi abuela, padre, madre y me voy_ ….leave to get … _la educacion_ from America. Mi padre got a job in a hospital in Lima. There is where I'll go to school and live." Santana continued.

"I'm moving to Lima Beans too," I commented.

"That's where I live too." Brittany stated gleefully. In her joy she hopped off the bench, twirling, dancing around on the carpet without a care in the world.

"You're a _petite danseuse_, too," I said, getting off the bench as well, "I can dance as well but I love to sing more." I started belting out the lyrics to Mary J. Blige's Family Affair. While singing. I turned to Santana to see if she was willing to participate. Just as I was about to stop, to ask her, I heard her beat boxing. It was like she was playing instruments but with her mouth. She started tapping on the bench in tune to my singing. Laughing out loud Brittany drew us from our little staring contest.

"Guys, this is awesome. "She panted out.

I sang louder just as passionately as she was dancing around on the carpet. The girls both stopped what they were doing to stare at me.

"Woah…" they were in awe, completely astonished at the power and raw talent they were hearing. I blushed and ducked my head. They looked at each other before rushing me and tackling me to the floor. I started laughing, happy that Santana was loosening up a lot more.

It looked like music was the center of all our hearts.

Bystanders chucked and started clapping, we looked up from our happy pile blushing at the amount of attention been displayed towards us.

'Rachel,' I thought,' If you want to be on Broadway, you have to get use to the attention.' The girls untangled themselves and Rachel put on the smile she'd been working on since the beginning of the month. I smiled prettily at the crowd and thanked them for their generous applause. The crowd was charmed by my behavior.

Brittany grinned at how easily the "audience" played into her charms. She held Rachel's left hand and placed Santana's into Rachel's right hand, the girl in particular blushed red, evident even on her exotic skin. Stepping forward, Brittany inquired if there were any requests, fortunately for them; they were told to just "do their thing." The girls were beyond excited they were practically salivating at this moment, both girls definitely, excepting Santana.

"No."

That was all the young girl said on the topic. The girls pouted and the minute they went silent, Santana looked up, only to be met with the tag teaming force of their pouts. She immediately caved. Grumbling in Spanish under her breath, she gave them the go ahead. They cheered and tackle hugged the girl. Some in the crowd grinned at how fast she gave in, they themselves knowing that they would have done the same in her position. Santana pushed the girls off her ignoring their grins.

"_Solo vamos a hacer esto."_

"Could you repeat that?" the girls asked.

"Go. Sing." She rasped out complete with a heavier accent because of her slight annoyance. The girls beamed at her words, since she noticed the crowd she hardly spoke. Upon seeing their grins, the little smile she was sporting widen tremendously, especially when Rachel began to sing. The song, written in the Stars from the Broadway musical, Aida: it was a large song for the little girl. Eyes widened once more in awe. Then both Rachel's and Brittany's eyes were upon her urging her to perform. So she did. She made a beat to go along with the song and tapped it out, creating a variety of sounds to fit the song all while dancing around imitating certain steps Brittany was taking. All of the girls' eyes eventually caught their parents and their eyes lit up even further, they were doing something the loved, with people they'll come to love, being watched by the people they loved and loved them in return. All the parents stood together, along with Rachel's Aunty Sly videoing their performance.

Bonding: The first step to Intertwining our Destinies.

**I have no faith at all in this, but I would like your honest reviews, so please if it sucks it sucks, and I want you to tell me. If you'd like to know what the fanfic is about visit:**

** blog/jay-sais-cyn . Please and thank you. **

**Oh and I'm a lazy bastard so this will probably be uploaded once every week or so. K, cool. Aight. Please leave reviews. Or not.**

**Next chapter: First day of school, freshman year.**


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